I Stare at the Mirror
by DisturbedRogue
Summary: Rogue feels disconnected to the world and comes to a trajic conclusion.Not a suicide fic and contains some other characters. Slightly confusing.
1. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER: Don't own any of the characters

SPOILERS(Thanx Carla): "The 6th Sense"

AUTHORS NOTE: This is extremely confusing. Read at your own risk.

I stare at the mirror. It sits above the dresser me and Kitty share. When the mansion was rebuilt I probably could have gotten my own room. But I declined, we both did. It may not be the strongest friendship, and it probably won't last forever, but it's good enough for now. But right now I don't know and I don't care. 

I stare at the mirror. I don't know what happened. One day I just felt disconnected. Now I don't care if people point and whisper. Half the time I don't even notice. I don't think about anything anymore, I just do it. It's become a cycle. Wake-up, get dressed, put on makeup, go to school, go home, do homework, take a shower, go to sleep and do it all over again. This past week I've missed a lot of meals, or that's what I'm told. I'm not purposely doing it; sometimes I just forget them. I'm so disconnected that I don't feel hungry anymore. Or maybe it's a new development of my mutation. Or maybe my body just doesn't want food anymore. Right now I don't know and I don't care.

I stare at the mirror. I wonder if this is depression. Or maybe I'm just going insane. Do you internally know if these things are happening? Do the insane ever know they're mad? The depressed ever know just how deep they're in. How sad can you get before you get stuck. Can you recover or do you remain melancholy? Would it matter if I stayed in this mode of life for the rest of my years? I don't know right now and I don't care.

I stare at the mirror. The image that stares back at me fells fake. My mind drifts back to a time I was younger. One of the insignificant few things I remember before I was twelve. I walk through a store. It has one of those security cameras that videotapes you from behind but has the TV in front of you. Everything the little girl does is shown on the screen, but backwards. And since the little girl can never look at the camera and the screen at the same time she will never know if the little girl on the screen is truly her, because she can never see her face. She is still young enough to believe that someone could actually change shape and become your other twin. I know that at that exact same time there are under-cover geniuses who are discovering people with the ability to change shape. I know there should be the slightest amount of irony or humor to this. The little girl is more right about human abilities than the adults surrounding her. But none of these feelings come to mind. And unlike that little girl of the past I don't know and I don't care.

I stare at the mirror. Not in the way that other girls do. Jean does it to look for imperfections. To make sure that she can live up to the high standards that she's set for herself. Since her and Scott have been together she's become less self-conscious. Her bigger goal now is to be happy, not to impress others. I'm glad. That's not a feeling, just a fact. Kitty stares at the mirror to make herself look better, not to see if she looks bad. Adding more makeup to look more natural. I know there's supposed to be some irony in this too. I don't feel it. I don't know why and I don't care.

I stare at the mirror. My hand runs down the side of my face and Her hand runs down the side of Her face. Whatever I do, She does too. But She is not me. She is not real. And I am. Because no matter how far I get lost there is still that small flame that screams I'm real. It is this flame that makes me want to break the cycle. To jump in Scott's convertible and press the gas peddle all the way to the floor, just to see how fast I can go. It's not the clothes or makeup that She has on in my reflection. Living with Irene taught me to look past such foolish things. The fact is that She is not even a reflection. She has no life; She is only a painting. A reflection has life and spark, no matter what the condition of the person, unless they are dead. But for now I don't know and I don't care.

I focus at the mirror. She has the nerve to not even stare back. There is no force behind Her actions. I suddenly become frightened. Terrified almost. This is the most emotion I've had for a while and I don't even know why I have it. My mind wanders. All thoughts fall apart. Nothing is holding me together and the scope of my mind is suddenly limitless. 6th Sense the movie appears and everything suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks.

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I must be dead.

That is why my reflection has no life. Why there's been no emotion. Why I've felt so disconnected. Bruce Willis didn't find out he was dead the whole time until the end of the movie. People never touched me anyway so how would I know if I could make physical contact? More panic sweeps over me. How long have I been dead? I think back to all the times I could have died. I come up with no thoughts at all and realize this is the end. You never realize what you have until it's gone and know is the one time it is truly and utterly clear.

Silent tears stream down my face and my body begins to shudder. I don't want to die. I'm only 17, please God don't let me die. I think back to the past few weeks when I wouldn't have cared. They say you're a coward to fear death and right now I'd take that name just to live. I can feel Death and desperately call out to God. 

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Please

Nothing happens and I can almost see the Grim Reaper walking in from my balcony.

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Please, please, please, please.

Nothing again. My life has been filled with so much Goddamn nothingness. All I want is one more chance. The sobs come but have no volume. I shudder harder and can barely remain standing.

I stare at the mirror. How come She won't do anything. It's because She is dead. Just like me. And for once I know and I care.

I've never cared about anything so much in my life before. I think of all the people I care about and just wish that I could run out my room and tell them how much I care. But I know if I leave this spot Death will grab me, so all I can do is wait for the end. 

The room blurs and I don't know if it's from my river of tears or if it's the Reaper's curved blade slashing through my soul. No one will grieve my death. What have I truly done for the people who have done so much for me?

I stare at the mirror. She blankly looks back and I plead with Her face. Nothing again. Maybe I've pleaded to God so many times that he's gotten tired of me. A new sense of sadness overwhelms me and my last bits of energy are used for crying. How would someone who steals lives ever make it into Heaven? 

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All I want is one more chance! Anything!

I put all of what's left of my soul into the request but it must not be enough. I close my eyes and try to hold on to the life I once had. The door behind the mirror opens and my eyes flutter open.

I look up at the mirror. My vision is so blurred and my head is spinning so fast I can only focus on the burning coals in his eyes. The shine in the reflection and the flame in my body holds hope. I look to my reflection and feel an emotion indescribable but so strong that it fills my entire body. On the outside my body makes no move but She smiles back at me. The savior behind me notices this impossible happening but just moves toward me. My breath is shaky and my whole body is still shuddering. Tears continue to fall from my eyes and I hope that this is real. That the man behind me is more than just an illusion. More than some image my desperate mind made up to gain just a few more moments of life. 

Somehow he senses my doubt and embraces me from behind. I spin around and look straight into his red and black eyes. 

Death leaves. It withers back into the walls of my room and the room is empty once again. I hold onto him and cry my tears of joy. He holds on just as tight as if to banish the feeling of Death once and forever.

The only thing I can manage to stutter is "Thank God"

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Thank you God, Thank you so much for sending me an angel.

****

The End.

Okay, I don't know if anyone will like that or not but I decided to post it anyway. I actually have some chapters planned but won't post unless like 10-15 people want me to. If you hated it or liked it would be nice to know. If you didn't get parts of it please just ask in a review. 

Thank-you for reading. 


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER: 2

DISCLAIMER: Don't own any of the characters 

SPOILERS: Episodes 'Mindbender' and 'Under Lock and Key' 

AUTHOR'S THANX: Anyone who reviewed.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't know Mesmero's specific powers or if he can do anything that he does in this chap but I read it in another story so we'll just pretend that he has telekinesis. 

He watched the interaction between Rogue and Gambit as he floated just outside the window. A feeling of disgust came over him as they stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever.

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Damn teenagers and their stupid hormones. I was so close to controlling her mind and Gambit has to go in and interfere.

Mesmero had been trying for the past two weeks to gain control of the Southern Belle.

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Who'd have thought a Goth would have such a will to live?

He really had no intentions of killing the girl. That is unless his master needed it done. If that were the case then she'd be as good as gone.

The plan was simple enough; target one of the less involved students and subtly begin to take control. So he observed, and he watched, and he planned. And then it all folded together.

Certain people in the mansion were immediately eliminated from his list of possible candidates. Anyone who had been used to steal the keys or had a team importance such as an adult would not due. Wolverine was gone on some trip so he wouldn't have to worry about being caught by the Canadian. Being the second strongest telepath made it far too easy to shield his mind from the Professor or Jean. All he had to worry about was not getting visually caught. And he never did.

It was on his second day of watching the X-men that she first caught his attention. She kept to her self and rarely interacted much with the other students. Half the time she was ignored or pitied and never attended the after-school activities like the rest of the teens. He then collected that she was the mutant who had the ability to steal other's powers and couldn't safely touch. Perfect. A powerful mutant that will not only be unnoticed but will also be easy to manipulate. Or that's what he thought.

The first step was when it started to complicate. All he had to do was scan her mind to see her schedule. Unfortunately her mind blocks were so strong that even this was impossible to do. But as they say, the greater the challenge the greater the reward. He followed her the next day and became even more delighted about his little find.

All though she appeared not to care what people thought of her he was able to see that she was really self-conscious. She wasn't Ms. Sunshine but didn't seem like the type who would end her life with her own hands either. Unless she had some help.

Using his powers he began to peel off the fog surrounding her emotions. He was pleased again to find an unordinary amount of depression at the root of her feelings. This made it all the more easier. So he began to work. Each day peeling away more of the mind blocks and locking her in to her subconscious. At first she never even noticed. After a while she began to pick up on what was happening but it was too late. She was already locked so deep into the caverns of her mind there was no escaping.

So today was the final day, the day where all his hard work became worth it. All he needed to do was put her into a great state of fear. With Jean he had used the classic carnival nightmare, with Remy it was an instance from his past, with Rogue it had to be different.

He stood outside her bedroom window and waited. He listened in on her thoughts of Jean and Kitty. He viewed one of her few memories as a child. But most of all he focused on her reflection. And then he went to work. Forcing her mind's eye to distort the image in the mirror. Forcing her to believe that this was the end and that God was abruptly ending her life. She was at such a panicked state that it would be easy for him to turn these panicky feelings to fear.

Perhaps this was the point in time where he slipped. Where he became too confident in his work. She was pleading to God and he almost found this funny. The fact that millions would be doing this when his master rose and all calls would still remain unanswered. He began to feed more images into her mind. She truly thought that the Grim Reaper was coming for her, that there was a presence of death in the room. Little did she know it was all just a mental illusion. And then he came.

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That damn Cajun. Ruined all my plans. 

The one point where Rogue had a free will during the past two weeks. The one moment where something could go wrong. And it did.

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That stupid stupid thief has to come and reassure her.

The minute her fears started to go away her mind blocks instantly rebuilt and all his progress was gone. The perfect weapon.

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And now she's recovered.

But this didn't slow him down much. 

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If those weaker mutants think that joining teams will help stop me they truly must be more pathetic than I first thought them to be.

The wind picked up and snow began to gracefully fall to the ground. Mesmero floated back into the trees and began to re-plan. Soon enough Apocalypse would be free and Mesmero would be paid for his loyalty. It was just a matter of time.

****

THE END 

I know that was extremely crappy but I threw it together in less than 20 minutes just to answer some peoples questions. Hopefully that helped a little. I want to yell at Lady Trunks and MB Lite for getting me interested in Rietro once again. I figure Romy has and will be around forever but by the fourth season, if there even is one, Rietro will start to die out (and I am so damn sick of Kitty or Jean romances) So now I'm working on something pointed more towards Rogue/Pietro instead of Rogue/Gambit.

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End file.
